


Playing With Knives

by WebbedUpKatanas



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Inappropriate Use of Katanas, Knifeplay, Like Whoa, M/M, Weapons Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2107821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WebbedUpKatanas/pseuds/WebbedUpKatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SO I MESSED UP! I didn’t recheck the prompt before I wrote this and I may have accidentally put Peter on the bottom? I hope that’s okay because it’s too late to turn around we are all on this bottom peter train together now. So anyways here are Wade and Peter playing with knives! No blood is shed and no one puts their eye out despite what mothers all around the world have been warning you for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing With Knives

Wade first notices it before they are together.

In the beginning it was nothing more than catching Spidey admiring his katanas a few times during their occasional (yearly) team-ups. He doesn’t blame the guy really, those blades are his babies, and he sure knows how to show them off.

He only begins to suspect there’s something more to it when during one epic crusade Wade threatens him with a katana. Oddly, instead of laying on a beating, Spidey’s eyes go wide and he tilts his head back, exposing more of his neck to the cool glinting metal. Of course that only lasts two seconds before Wade finds himself disarmed and webbed to a wall… but it’s still interesting.

Another time, just a few days after they had first hooked up, Wade had been playing with a knife, twirling it between his fingers carelessly as they discussed the pros and cons of deepfried Mars Bars. At one point he had dragged the tip of the knife gently across the table, and Peter had lost his train of thought, staring at the sharp point in reverent silence.

“Don’t worry Petey, I’m not gonna scratch your precious knockoff Ikea furniture,” he had said, and flipped the knife one more time before setting it down gently.

“You… what?” Peter had blinked, tearing his eyes away from the knife with some difficulty to look up at Wade. His cheeks really are sort of pink Wade notes with surprise.

“Table? Knife? Earth to Spidey, are you in there?”

“Huh? Oh… right. Yeah, well… you better not or you’ll be buying me a new one,” he says with a shake of his head, rising so fast he almost knocks the table over and heading to the kitchen.

Interesting response. Wade tucks the knife back in it’s sheath, pondering Peter’s reaction. Then he had gotten distracted by Peter calling out that there was pie, and forgotten all about it for a while. Looking back later he would realize that this was one of Peter’s evil ‘distract Wade with food’ plans, but at the moment there had been pie to be had, and Wade had his priorities straight.

……….

If once is chance and twice is coincidence, he’d be willing to bet his sexiest lace panties that his boyfriends got a kink by the twenty-second time he notices Peter’s eyes linger on a knife for just a second too long.

“Wade where did you put the dirty laundry because it’s definitely not in the washing machine. It’s also not piled in the bedroom so-” Peter cuts himself off, frowning as he takes in the scene before him. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“What does it look like?”

Okay, so out of all of the master plans of seduction maybe juggling three switchblades isn’t the smartest or sexiest option. But hey, it’s kind of goofy and charming right?

“Something ridiculous and dangerous, as always,” Peter says, his eyes glued to the blades as they whirl through the air over and over. “Wade, you’re going to hurt yourself. Or me. Or the apartment. Don’t you think we’ve all been through enough? Please put the incredibly sharp objects down.”

“Oh ye of little faith. I’ve perfected the art of juggling. I’m the juggle master! The grand high wizard of handling balls! And knives and-” Wade is cut off by a dull thunk as one of the blades embeds itself in the ceiling right above his head.

“You don’t have to give me that look,” he grumbles after a beat, catching one of the switchblades and allowing the other to fall to the floor. He didn’t drop it, it was a strategic move okay? Just because he can heal doesn’t mean he likes getting blood on the floor. Or a knife through his hand.

“I think I do,” Peter sighs, shooting a web and tugging the other knife down to the ground as well. “Why did you decide that juggling knives inside was a good idea?”

“Would you prefer I juggle them on the street?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t juggle them at all,” Peter says, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Really? Damn, I thought it might get you going. Looks like I’m gonna have to switch tactics,” he says, twirling the switchblade with casual ease between his fingers. This works better than the juggling. At least he thinks it does because Peter’s eyes go a little wider, his breathing just a little deeper and he doesn’t seem to be able to tear his eyes away from the twirling metal.

“You- what are you talking about?”

Wade smirks, placing the blade against his own neck lightly and drawing a long, leisurely line down his body. Peter’s face heats up as he watches the tip trace down Wade’s chest, skimming down his muscular abs and stomach to come to rest low on his pelvis.

“See, I’ve noticed something about you,” Wade says, stalking towards him like a predator cornering his prey. “At first I wasn’t sure, but now… I think you kinda like this don’t you?” he asks lifting the blade up for Peter to inspect. “I think it turns you on.” He brings it up to his mouth, flattening his tongue against the broadest part and licking it from hilt to tip, the way he knows Peter likes him to lick his cock.

Peter makes a little sound, possibly meant to be a rebuttal, but it dies in his throat as Wade tilts his head, making a show of running his tongue up it again, eyes half lidded and hungry as he finally reaches his destination. When he licks it a third time Peter is only inches away, looking for all the world like he wants to devour Wade alive.

Then, ever so slowly, Wade presses the tip of the knife to the other man’s chest with a sly smile.

“Wha-?” Peter tenses as Wade traces a circle lightly where the blade rests against his t-shirt. “Wade, put the knife down,” he demands tersely, going very very still. The atmosphere is heavy, with Peter barely daring to move while Wade studies his face, doodling a little Deadpool symbol on his chest with the blade. Each prick that comes from making the eyes makes Peter flinch, though Wade is careful not to actually hurt him.

“Oh relax Pete, I’m not going to cut you. I was just testing my theory,” Wade says, tossing the knife casually to the side with a flick of his wrist.

Peter has him pinned to the wall in an instant, slamming him so hard that the air rushes out of his lungs on impact.

“Wade,” he growls, and oh shit he looks angry.

Really angry.

His eyes are shining and his jaw is set in a firm line, and judging by the signs it looks like Wade’s about to get punched in the face.

“Whoa okay Petey, I’m sorry!” he yelps as Peter’s fingers tighten on his shoulders. “Look knife’s gone! It’s all the way over there! Oh god… just avoid the teeth, you have no idea how gross it is to feel them grow back,” he whines, cowering pathetically against the wall.

The next thing he knows he’s being kissed, very viciously, by his enthusiastic and extremely pissed off boyfriend.

“So you do like it,” Wade gasps after a minute of kissing that may or may not have made him very very hard very very fast. Peter doesn’t answer right away. Instead he sucks on his bottom lip before sinking his teeth in. The pain and pleasure along with Peter’s hand holding the back of his head to keep him still make Wade melt against the wall, going absolutely boneless under the onslaught of angry lust.

“I might have a kind of thing for knives. And… sharp things in general,” he admits when he pulls back. He doesn’t get far before Wade’s arms are around his neck, pulling him back against him.

“Judging by that bulge I’d say you really have a thing for them,” he says slyly as Peter takes the opportunity to press angry biting kisses against his neck. “Want me to grab one? We can take it to the bedroom…”

“Not today,” Peter says picking Wade up and slamming him against the wall, bracing him there with a few well-placed web-shots. He crawls up the wall to join him, shuffling a little until Wade is face to crotch with a visibly horny Spider-Man.

“Wow this is, wow,” Wade stutters as Peter’s hand works at his fly. “Wait so that means you do want-”

“Yeah, yeah. Not today.”

After that Peter can’t say anything for quite a while, but from the sounds he makes around the length in his mouth Wade is pretty sure he isn’t all that angry anymore.

……….

So that’s how they end up here.

Here being Peter spread out naked on the bed as Wade leans over him, dagger in hand.

It isn’t sharpened. As much as he’s trying to trust himself he wouldn’t dare hold something that makes it easy to cut against Peter. The mere thought of hurting his baby boy makes him feel a little bit sick. Still, he’s little nervous as he picks up the knife, pressing it hard against his thumb to ensure it doesn’t slice through. He looks at the impression it leaves behind, glad to see it hasn’t drawn blood. It’d take an awful lot of force to make it do some damage.

Wade pauses, staring at the blade. Usually when he has these out someones about to get hurt, and badly. But the image of crimson blossoming over Peter’s flesh that flashes bright in his minds eye makes him recoil, and that’s good. It means he can do this.

And if he can’t… well he’s putting an awful lot of faith in Peter’s Spidey-Sense and that spidery strength of his.

His eyes flicker to Peter’s face, and the look of eager barely-restrained excitement he sees there convinces him once and for all to lower the knife to the soft (and relatively safe) skin of Peter’s shoulder. The other man’s breath hitches at the first press of the cold steel, and his hand tightens on Wade’s hip.

He starts by gently sliding the knife over, pausing just below the dip in Peter’s throat. Wade straddles him, pressing him down against the bed with his body. They are so close that he can feel the shiver that runs through Peter as he drags the knife along with the knife with one hand and toys lazily with a hardened nipple with the other.

Experimentally he runs the tip of the blade down Peter’s chest, fascinated as goosebumps break out over his skin. “You like that huh?” He grins, adding just a tiny bit of pressure as the knife drags lower over his abs. Peter gasps as the blade veers to the right, trailing a long dangerous line over the soft skin of his stomach to trace around the jut of his hipbone in slow lazy circles.

“Hmm, not quite the answer I was looking for. For one I was kinda hoping you would use your words…” Wade trails off and stills the knife, laying the cold metal flat against the delicate crease between his pelvis and thigh.

“Yeah. I like it,” Peter practically whispers, biting his lips and holding back against the urge to move, hyperaware of where the edges of the blade are pressed against skin on either side of the knife.

“Good. Now open your legs wider for me,” Wade demands. Peter does what he’s told, spreading himself wide with a hot red blush staining his cheeks.

He looks practically edible like this. All naked and open and willing to do whatever he asks of him. Wade can see every inch of him and he takes a moment to appreciate the view. His eyes linger on the line of his rapidly hardening cock, the curve of his balls, the shadowed space just barely visible between the cheeks of his ass. Peter’s chest rises and falls along with the ragged rhythm of his breathing, and he bites his lip as Wade picks up the knife, replacing it with his tongue to lick a long line up the soft crease without taking his eyes off of Peter’s face.

The other man makes a soft pleased sound, wiggling his hips the tiniest bit as he arches into the feeling. Wade smiles against his skin, nipping lightly at his hipbone and taking a moment to savour the way Peter reacts to every breath and scrape of teeth and wet press of tongue. Peter is so receptive to every touch, rewarding Wade with small soft whimpery noises that make him want to cut the foreplay and jump straight to the part where he gets to make him scream in pleasure.

But no. He’s only just started after all. He hasn’t even gotten an honest moan yet, and that’s a shame because Peter’s moans are like music to his ears.

He lets the knife dance along the softness of Peter’s inner thigh, tracing patters lightly and being careful not to cut when they start to tremble slightly. The other side gets the same treatment, until Peter moans, the blade pressed tight and dangerous and thrilling against him, the dull side just barely brushing the tender flesh of his balls.

He’s so hard that Wade can’t resist letting his fingers brush up and down Peter’s erection gently, adding pressure to the knife as a perfect conterpoint. He delights in watching him writhe, caught between pleasure and the wild thrill of danger. Giving into temptation again he flicks his tongue out, tasting the head of Peter’s cock before sucking it idly into his mouth, running his lips over and over the head until Peter is just barely holding himself back from bucking, remembering the knife at the last second and making little half-aborted thrusts instead.

The room is quiet, the only sounds heavy breathing and the muffled tick of the clock from the other room. Peter sighs, an almost disappointed sound when the knife and his mouth are withdrawn, and Wade smirks leaning up to capture his lips in a rough kiss. He bites Peter’s lip hard, immediately soothing it with his tongue before Peter opens his mouth invitingly, trying to coax him back into his mouth. They kiss for a long time, so deep and warm and distracting that Peter gasps in shock when Wade draws the knife up his chest between them.

Wade presses the knife hard against his sternum and Peter’s breath hitches. His eyes slide closed and his breath comes in shorter, more ragged gasps as Wade adds more pressure, pushing as hard as he dares and finally fisting his cock and pumping it slowly.

Peter looks so good like this. He looks somehow smaller, more fragile. The contrast between the strength that Wade knows he has and the way he is spread out now, vulnerable and completely at Wade’s mercy makes heat blossom in his belly. Peter is his. The hero who never quits, the precious nerdy scientist who makes him laugh; Peter Parker is willing to let Wade do this. He trusts him enough to submit to him. Wade is almost scared. The guy must be insane.

Wade hesitates a moment, slightly worried by what he wants to do next. He’s not sure why he wants it; doesn’t really want to consider it beyond the heady rush he gets at the thought of trust and the lust that is driving him crazy and clouding his senses.

Slowly, almost timidly, he presses the cold blade against Peter’s throat and everything goes still.

Wade almost expects him to protest, after all Wade could easily do some damage here. Hell, if someone did this to him he’d probably freak. But the flash of emotion in Peter’s eyes doesn’t look like fear.

Shock and arousal thrum through Wade like an electric current as Peter just stares him in the eyes and tilts his head back submissively, baring the long expanse of his neck to him.

Wade lets out a shaky breath, his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants. The sight is almost too much for him. Fumbling at his fly with one hand he frees his erection, pumping it a few times, unable to resist touching himself when Peter is so open and trusting and hungry for him.

Leaning in again he kisses him roughly, claiming him with his mouth as much as with the steel he’s still holding against his neck.

“Hmm I think maybe I’ll break out the big guns…well so to speak,” Wade hums breathlessly, tossing aside the knife. It says a lot about the state Peter is in that he doesn’t even complain when the tip sinks into the wood of his dresser.

Preparing him takes longer than usual, not that Wade is complaining. He loves having his fingers in Peter. Opening him up, feeling how tight and hot and perfect he is, and making him squirm and moan and shake as he stretches him is always a treat. Peter doesn’t seem to agree though, if the way he’s complaining and urging Wade to go faster is any indication.

He goes silent and still pretty quickly though as soon as Wade reaches for his katana.

He’s already stretched a lubeless condom over the hilt, because there’s no way he’s getting his babies all sticky. Well, at least not with lube. Because food sticky is a lot easier to clean off of a katana than lube sticky… not that he knows from experience or anything…

He’s also taken steps to make sure the sheath wouldn’t pop off halfway through. He wants to come away from this experience with all of his fingers intact thank you very much.

Gently, he presses the top of the hilt against Peter’s hole, and then Wade is torn, because as beautiful as the sight of his katana teasing against Peter is, his expression is almost more captivating. His teeth are clenched tight as though he’s trying to hold back any sound, and his eyes are heavily lidded, wet lips open and huffing out unsteady breaths. He doesn’t look wrecked yet; he looks like he’s struggling to keep from coming undone, just barely holding his composure, and that? That’s even better.

He adds gentle pressure and Peter bites his lip, squirming a little, torn between being uncomfortable and aroused. His legs stay open though, and he looks so eager despite his misgivings that Wade can’t even tease him for long, finally sinking the tip into his warm, willing body.

Wade slides the hilt in inch by inch, gleefully indulging in the high whining sound that each torturously slow push earns him from Peter’s open mouth. Stilling the katana he grins, watching Peter struggle to control his increasingly ragged breathing.

“Okay so, sword. In my ass. That’s- oh God that’s so weird. It’s all cold and… you really need to start thrusting. I’m going nuts here,” Peter splutters, his hands finally stilling curled tight in the sheets of the bed.

Wade hums, leaning down to momentarily drag his teeth over one of his firm nipples before leaning back again to look him in the eyes. “Yeah yeah, I’ll get to it. Here’s the deal though. I’ll fuck you with my katana, hard as you want…” he pushes on it just slightly making Peter bite back on a surprised sound. “But you need to keep talking.”

“Wha-? Wade that’s. I can’t,” he huffs in disbelief. From the way he’s breathing Wade believes him too, but he wants to see him try anyways.

“You can, and you will,” he draws the hilt almost entirely out, dragging it slow and watching Peter’s muscles shift and tense as the fullness he must be feeling recedes.

“Mmm. More,” Peter groans, lifting his hips up to try to push the hilt deeper.

“That was just a sneak peak. No talky, no thrusty,” he replies with a callous shrug. Peter likes it when he teases, and it does give him a little flutter of arousal to see Pete so needy and flustered.

“I don’t know what to- what to say. What am I, ahh” Peter’s body gives a few jerky little shakes as Wade starts to move his katana at the sound of his voice.

“Really? You’re speechless? You?” Wade says disbelievingly. He thrusts a few times, short delicate little movements, before stilling once more, waiting for Peter to respond before he moves again.

“You’re an ah-asshole,” Peter grits out through clenched teeth. Despite the less than pleasant content, Wade obliges, fucking into him with his katana with a wide grin, watching Peter lose his cool as the thrusts get deeper. “God. Feels so… weird. Good, but it’s not-” Peter’s blush is deep and his eyes flicker shut as he musters the will to keep speaking. “It’s not you. It’s not warm, but the stretch is- oh oh, oh god please harder…” he trails off into a soft moan as Wade picks up the pace with each word until he’s fucking him hard on the hilt.

“C’mon baby boy, keep using that gorgeous mouth. Tell me how it feels to have me fuck you with my sword,” he growls, low and possessive right into Peter’s ear. The other man groans like he’s dying, his arms spread just as wide as his legs and grasping at the sheets desperately.

“It feels… god it feels filthy” he manages through a whine.

After that it’s difficult to keep track of Peter’s moans and babbled half-sentences; little fragments of instructions and praise and glimpses of the sensations the other man is feeling as Wade works his sword into him at a falteringly staccato rhythm. He pushes and pulls, pressing kisses to every bit of skin he can reach and glancing between Peter’s face and down to where he is opening him up in reverent awe.

It’s too much. He pulls out, tossing the sword to the side and earning himself a soft huff of disappointment.“Shh baby boy, I’m not gonna leave you hanging,” he laughs as Peter glares up at him, wiggling his hips pointedly.

“That was really weird,” Peter half laughs half groans as Wade’s fingers dip down and into him, applying more lube, although it isn’t really necessary. “Hot, so so hot, but weird. The jury’s still out on if we ever do that again,” he adds, lifting his hips for better access.

“Next time you can fuck me with it,” he promises, whispering words against Peter’s sweat dampened chest as he kisses and licks his skin and slides into him in one forceful thrust. Peter’s reply is cut off, fading out into a gasp and an arch. Wade’s tongue chases the line of his collarbone to the dip and slides up the swell of his adam’s apple.

Peter’s hands lock behind his neck, and they kiss seemingly endlessly, their mouths never parting even when they stop for air. Even when the constant push and pull of Wade’s thrusts chase away their ability to focus their lips stay locked, tongues licking away shuddery little sounds that neither of them can hold back.

Peter comes at the first touch of Wade’s hand to his cock, and Wade milks him through it until he’s whining and pulling back from over stimulation. He comes a few minutes later, slamming hard and deep and spilling inside of Peter with a gasp.

In the moments after orgasm as they catch their breath Wade considers how strange this really is. Who would ever have guessed that Spider-Man would trust Deadpool enough to let him touch him and hold a knife to him with nothing but a desire to make him feel good.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Peter voice cuts in to his musings, sounding sleepy as he curls himself up into Wade’s arms.

“Who says I’m thinking at all?”

“You’ve got that ridiculous ‘pondering the nature of reality’ face going on. The one you always use when you’re thinking about something deep or trying to decide what to put on your hot dog.”

Wade snorts, pinching Peter’s arm lightly just to make him yelp. “As if web-head. You know with hot dogs for me it’s all or nothing.”

“Yeah. You’re absolutely disgusting,” Peter replies fondly.

Tomorrow Peter will probably complain he’s sore. He’ll also complain about the knife, still stuck deep in the wood of his dresser. But for now he’s quiet, teasing Wade and laughing and falling asleep until Wade shakes him awake again just because he can.

“Let me sleep,” he groans, swatting at him pathetically.

“Or what,” Wade asks, his tone warm with amusement. “You gonna hold a knife to me?”

“Yeah,” Peter smirks against his chest. “I think maybe I will.”


End file.
